


burn a little brighter

by newrromantics



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5722726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newrromantics/pseuds/newrromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith hasn't known pain as exquisite as falling in love with Buffy Summers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burn a little brighter

It’s the hunt: a familiar pattern of survival. 

Blades pressed against her skin. Cool metal softening the burning of her skin. It’s the pocket knife that she carries in her right sock being turned from a weapon of survival into a weapon of art. 

The Mayor lures her in by the poison that sits under his skin that simmers underneath her own. It’s been sitting there in her veins since she was twelve years old, fingers curling into her palm as Molly Burton called her trash. It’s been explosive since the day her Watcher found her and handed her a stake.

It’s the hot crunch of desperation - of looking into her eyes and seeing a familiar song of disappointment - that turns her over the edge. Faith has always liked pain—fingers curling into her own flesh hard enough to draw blood when she’s angry, the rage that bubbles up inside her chest but never spills, the punchkickpunch on patrols. But Faith hasn’t known pain as exquisite as falling in love with Buffy Summers.

It’s like falling to the ground, _hard_. But being unable to pick herself up. It’s like lying still and allowing herself to be kicked repeatedly. It’s like the cool metal of a gun pressed to her temple and not being able to know when the trigger is going to be pulled, just that it will. It’s like violence blossoming in the spring, the thorn of a rose pricking her finger, except the thorns have decided to slash open her whole body.

Every day another thorn pricks her body, every touch, every smile shared between them adds another mark. It peels back Faith’s layer and builds up her walls, simultaneously. Because falling in love with Buffy is setting her up for disappointment. It’s setting her up for even worse pain - unimaginable pain. 

Maybe Faith is a masochist. Every time she allows herself to be open with Buffy, to choose not to hide behind tall-tales and allow a simmer of truth to flicker out from her lips. Every time she allows herself to graze her fingers against Buffy’s skin on patrol, the lighting jolt tingle she feels each time. Dancing with her in the Bronze, hot sweaty bodies all around them and their fingers entangled as they move. Faith’s eyes are trained on Buffy but her movements match the guys around them. 

It’s going to end badly, there’s no way it could end good. But Buffy hasn’t turned away, _yet_. Being bold will end badly, in Buffy turning away from her, in Buffy looking at her with cold-cold eyes. Distrust and disgust mutual in her expression as she walks away from Faith. It’s happened before and it will happen again. It hurt before and it will hurt worse now. But Faith will take what she can get, trick herself into feeling slivers of hope, cross lines and see just how far she can push Buffy, see how far Buffy is willing to follow her.

It ends with blood on her hands, on her shirt, in her system. Who was he? Did he have a family? Was he happy? _I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care._ It ends with Buffy standing in her doorway, broken but not falling apart. Not like Faith is. No cold, hard resolve for Buffy, just guilt. Guilt, except Buffy didn’t spend hours cleaning blood off of her shirt, washing it away in the shower like a bad dream. 

It ends with shackles and chains and the Council out for her blood. Faith protecting herself - from Giles and Wes, the Council, all of her little friends who’ll turn on her the moment they know the truth, from Buffy herself. It’s what she should have done a long time ago. But she falls. And she falls. And she falls. And in the end she’s left with only a mess she can clean up. 

It ends with Buffy trying to save her, save her from the monster she sees Faith as now. It’s morning and the darkness can’t hide what Faith is: a killer. It’s morning and the darkness that has made everything more simple has washed off. It’s morning and they’re not just two girls with a destiny anymore. It’s morning and Faith is standing outside of the Mayor’s office, looking for someone who won’t judge her. It’s morning and she’s putting her dreams to rest. It’s time to face the light.

It’s uneasiness in her stomach and the way she feels lighter, better, every time she’s around Buffy that hurts the most. It’s a temporary feeling. Even when she’s working against Buffy, it’s still that electric feel she gets; the happiness that spreads through her body like biting into warm, buttery toast. It’s the worst pain. It’s worse than the punches Buffy throws at her, or the harsh looks she sends her, or the knife - Faith’s knife - that she plunges into her stomach. Faith has expected that. But she never expected to feel warm, or have Buffy look at her the way she does when she shows up at her door on Christmas Eve. Or the way Buffy keeps pushing herself into Faith’s life - dinner after Patrol, talking and laughing like they’re two normal girls in a graveyard, that night Buffy came back to her small, dingy motel and they curled up on Faith’s bed and watched a fuzzy movie, her hand brushing against Faith’s skin nervously. It’s the affection and the softness and the worry after That Night from Buffy that gets her the most. Because it has an expiration date and it’s coming soon. 

It’s pain. It’s the worst, most beautiful pain. And Faith devours it until it’s gone.


End file.
